


Atar

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 10:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wandering the shores of Middle-earth, Maglor remembers a winter from his childhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Atar

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Feanor_Curufinwe on CoE in a Secret Santa exchange two years ago. :D
> 
> Atar Hrive is the elvish version of Father Christmas/Santa Claus for this story.

In later days, when Maglor lingered on the sea shore by himself, as the winter winds nipped at his fingers and made it even harder for him to play than it normally was, and thoughts entered his mind about hating winter, he would sometimes remember winters in the past. Before his brothers and father died, before the kinslayings, before the Silmarils had even been forged, and for a brief moment, the years would melt away and he would feel warm again. On those days, he did not remember the look on his brothers’ faces as they died, or the way his father had turned to ashes before their eyes. Instead, he remembered how when they were children they had believed in such silly stories as Atar Hrive and how indulgent his parents had been of their behavior on those days. It couldn’t have been easy, even after Maedhros and he had grown old enough to know better, and had started to help their father lay out the gifts that night, there had still been five of them to listen to.

As his mind drifted through those days, it settled on one of the very last times they had all been happy together, before the problems in their parents’ marriage had become all too visible, when his father had let him help with the gifts while his mother had rested and kept watch over his younger siblings.

_“Ata!” Caranthir had not been happy that day. “Celegorm says that I am not going to get any gifts tonight! Tell him he’s wrong Ata, please!”_

_Most days, Atar would have been too busy in his workshop, but on days like these he set aside his tools and spent the entire day with his family. Swooping down into the fray, he had swung Caranthir up and placed him on his hip. “Now, Celegorm, your brother is going to get gifts just the same as you do,” at this, Caranthir had stuck out his tongue. “Now, now Caranthir, is that really necessary?”_

_While this had been going on, Amil had been in the kitchen with Curufin and the Ambarussa, who were still too small to be involved in the fight between Celegorm and Caranthir. “Maedhros, be a dear and set the table please. Maglor, go get your brothers cleaned up for supper.”_

_“Yes, Amil,” they had both cried out. Then he had picked up his siblings and carried them to the washroom, with Curufin hanging onto his back and one of the Ambarussa in each arm, as Maedhros set nine places at the table. Soon, Atar had joined them in the washroom, while Celegorm and Caranthir persisted in trying to fight._

_“Caranthir! Do not kick your brother in the head!” Atar cried out. “Celegorm! No! Do not throw things at him! Both of you, wash up now!”_

_Glaring at each other, they had done that. Then, they had all followed Atar into the dining room, where they had taken their places as their mother had placed the goose on the table. After all of that had been consumed, and with minimal bloodshed, his younger siblings had all been sent to bed._

_“Ata?” Curufin, of course, had reappeared within a few minutes._

_“Yes?” Atar looked up from his seat._

_“Amil, Maedhros, Maglor, and you are going to bed soon, aren’t you? Celegorm said that Atar Hrive wouldn’t come unless we were all asleep,” Curufin spoke worriedly._

_“I assure you, we shall all be in bed in time for him to bring you gifts. Now, it is time that you go to sleep, so that your brothers can have the washroom free to ready themselves for bed,” Atar had spoken with a smile._

_“Yes Ata. I will go right now,” indeed, within seconds, they had heard his footsteps racing up the staircase. Amil had set aside her sewing, and gazed fondly upwards._

_“I shall go make sure they all stay in bed,” she had leaned down and gazed his father on the cheek. “Do try to be quieter this year, last year, it was nearly impossible to keep Curufin in bed. He wished to question Atar Hrive about what tools he used to make the gifts, and Caranthir wished to complain about how noisy he was being.”_

_Atar had laughed at that, “Better than when Celegorm wished to steal one of his reindeer.”_

_“Indeed. I thought I would never get you out of that trap, and how would I have explained that to the children?” Amil laughed as she left the room._

_At that, both Maedhros and he had looked up with wide eyes. Catching the look, Atar had burst out laughing. “I assure you, there are no traps around the house this year. We had a discussion with your brother after that, and he agreed that it would be best to let Atar Hrive keep his reindeer. Now, we must be quick – there’s so many of you to get presents set out for, that if we do not start now, we shall still be setting up when your brothers wake up in the morning.”_

_“Yes, Ata,” with that, they had set to work fetching the presents from where they had been hidden in their father’s workshop and putting together the few ones that were still left. As they worked, their father had remained at his desk, writing out the last of the letters that would be placed with each of his sons’ gifts. When he had finally finished the last one, he moved to the floor and began to help them arrange the presents on the floor. Finally, when they were all finished, he had drawn both of them closer to him, and wrapped an arm around each one. For a few minutes, they sat without saying anything, just staring into the fire. Then, as though moving in unison, each had stood and made their way to their own bedroom._

_The next morning had been full of laughter and ripped paper, and their family had been whole for one last holiday._

As Maglor came out of his memories, he looked across the ocean. Speaking to himself, he softly whispered, "I miss you all," before he turned and began walking the beaches once more.


End file.
